[ OPEN / CLOSED ] i think i found a way to kill the sun

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: December
Where: Cadens, Horizon
What: Some catching up now that he's home
Warnings: Discussion of trauma; nsfw marked



(( placing starters in the comments below. find me at discontinued or at Noa#1979 to plot stuff! ))

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[gynvael]

[ She had, in fact, phrased it as He menaced me with bread and encouragement, so Jaskier isn't far off. He can tell Ciri is fond of the bard, warmed to him, and he's glad to see it.

Jaskier's surprise is met with not more than a look. He knows what Jaskier is thinking. Jaskier is hardly oblivious, has undoubtedly noticed something has been amiss between him and Sam before. Geralt's never gotten into it and he doesn't now. It isn't important. Not anymore. Sam came to his aid despite it all, and Geralt, in that moment, had not questioned whether Sam would or not. And he's come to realize there are few he can ever rely upon like that, here or home or anywhere. Besides, he can't remember when someone last had recoiled from him, and then come back to apologize for it. It's worth something to him.

So he will stay with Sam. Sam knows not to push him; he'll get the space he needs there. In return, Sam can have a home that isn't so empty. ]

Doesn't mean she can't use someone there. [ No. Ciri can take care of herself. She's likely been on her own, alone, plenty of times. But he thinks, she shouldn't have to. More than that, he thinks Jaskier could use the same. Someone there.

Because Geralt is not. Not as well as he should be. He wants to, he does, but he's been scattered, still can't focus well enough to enter the Horizon, still can't close his eyes for long. He just. Needs time. He's been trying to be patient with it, with himself. As much as he can be.

He steadies himself on the headstone as he rises to his feet. The fresh air's done him good, but he's beginning to tire. When he catches Jaskier reaching for him, he doesn't resist. There's a soft grunt as he's pulled in close and he finds himself holding his friend in turn. He breathes out, lets a part of him unwind a hint. He wants to say, I'm down the road, idiot; it's not as though Sam is far. But he gets that's not what Jaskier means, that Geralt more than has a habit of withdrawing no matter the physical distance.

He can't deny the urge is there. It always is. He also knows he can't do that to Ciri. So. ] I'll be here.

[cointosser]

[Ugh, he knows what that means. That Geralt quite clearly can see that Jaskier is the last who should be alone, either. Yes, well. Ciri kept him sane, too, even if it was with far less bread and more blood and monster bits all over his kneading table.

He gives him a last squeeze and, because he's a little shit, a kiss on the cheek.]

It's good having you around once more. [Ah, damn sentimentality. It leaks out despite. As he pulls away, there's a smile on his face. Moreso than he'd managed during their conversation. It's still a lot -- far too much, if you ask him -- but they will take it a step at a time. As he forced himself to learn while Geralt was gone. A day, a moment at a time.]

Come. I'll walk you home, and not a step farther. [He imitates Geralt's voice with a bit of a flourish. He only notes Geralt's slow movements, but makes no commentary on them.] And if you ignore my messages again, I'll kill you myself. In the most obnoxious way possible.

[gynvael]

[ A quiet huff escapes him. Yeah. It is good to be around again. Good to have people he can rely on nearby, good to finally be in a place where he can start to heal without the stops and starts he was dealing with before, wounds that would start to close only to tear open or for new ones to appear.

He will not admit the deep seated fear that followed him those weeks—not of death, but of earning an injury severe enough he'd not recover from it. One that would leave him unable to really protect anyone at all. It is, he supposes, every Witcher's fear. Whether they speak of it or not. ]

Fuck off, Jaskier. [ There's no heat behind the words. He falls into step beside the bard, chooses not to point out he didn't ignore any messages. He simply never allowed himself to receive them in the first place. Semantics, he's aware. And not the point. He'd done what he had to. He's just glad they were safe, Jaskier and Ciri both.

He lets Jaskier walk him back to Sam's. If a bit of hovering is what Jaskier needs after all this shit, he can allow for it. His side aches worse by the time they reach the door, and he feels every heavy movement as he drags himself up the stairs—but he can't say the walk wasn't time worth spending. ]